


Broken Implements

by RebornFromSeas



Series: We all have monsters in our memories; some of us might be them still [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety, Conversations, Dealing with the aftermath of revealing backstory, Gen, M/M, Mental Age doesn't work that way, Slowburn going nowhere, The Mighty Nein are all Disasters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 17:05:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14773659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebornFromSeas/pseuds/RebornFromSeas
Summary: Caleb Widogast made a decision, now, far too late to change anything, he finds he's not sure if it was the Right one.  Somehow, it's Beau that helps him sort out his hang ups and soothes him.





	Broken Implements

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I like this concept and am running with it. I regret not being able to fit Kiri or Nott in, that would have been excellent.

Caleb stared at his spellbook sitting on the tavern table. He’d finished transferring the spell nearly half an hour ago and hadn’t been able to focus on copying more spells since. He wanted to blame it on how the tavern was clearly the only place in the small town for travelers to sleep and how it immediately became the most popular place to eat when there were guests. He really truly would, but almost immediately after setting down his supplies to work, the rest of the Nein had filtered downstairs and managed to distract the locals from him and pull them off to different table.

Caleb was grateful, his space felt defended and only the thick wash of many voices got to him. He should be as comfortable as possible in a relatively crowded tavern during a busy morning, but instead he’d been sitting there, staring at his spell, with his mind circling thoughts of last night when he’d told Mollymauk Tealeaf everything. He hadn’t known what to expect, but he never did with Mollymauk, and his thoughts would not stop picking apart the scant few minutes after he’d finished but before he left. Even that would have been fine – since he left the Asylum, he’d gotten used to the fact that certain thoughts would stay on his mind until they were well dead and then perhaps undead - if it wasn’t for the tension that came with those ever-circling thoughts this time.

The wizard rather desperately wished he knew if telling Mollymauk after Beau and Nott had been the right choice.

Beau had made things easy, she’d already shared a secret with him. She had a familiar skeptical disgust of the Empire. She was also bluntly pragmatic and terrible enough with emotions that she wouldn’t try to coddle him. 

Nott had. He wasn’t sure she would, but he’d known she wouldn’t leave him alone after he told her. To leave her out of the first round of telling would have been an injustice to the loyalty they’d built between them. 

So that, that first telling, had been almost simple despite the pain, like draining an infected wound. Deciding who he’d tell next had been harder. Yasha wandered in and out too much for him to pick out more than her being as introverted as himself. Jester would be devastated, and he liked her far too much to find the words to tell her so soon. Fjord? Fjord was a chameleon in too many ways, and Caleb was simply not at all certain what he’d do with Caleb’s past. In some ways that had stung – Fjord was sensible and tactical in a way that was almost familiar, if only Caleb could pin down what he’d care about or not, and almost more importantly, what he’d do if he did care.

That left Mollymauk. Caleb frequently couldn't understand the tiefling, but he’d seen Mollymauk’s disdain and skepticism of authority regularly enough. Not to mention the night after meeting the Tabaxi. He’d started laying out the truth even before Jester had cast to ensure that he spoke truly. And what he's said under that spell was important to - Mollymauk thought he was good, tried to be a good person. He wouldn’t turn Caleb in. He’d been the only decent choice on who to tell next.

Caleb had expected pity or Mollymauk spouting shit to get out of thinking about it, or perhaps a sharply dismissive statement that the past didn’t matter if Caleb chose to be someone better. He hadn’t expected Mollymauk to go quiet and serious. He certainly never imagined that Mollymauk would do a thing he’d professed to hate simply to get a better understanding. He wasn’t sure he believed it, that the entire thing would matter enough to Mollymauk that he’d be honest, and yet he almost had to. 

Caleb lifted his gaze and craned his neck around to glance the table where both of the Mighty Nein’s tieflings sat entertaining locals. He considered for a moment, then decided: Mollymauk was not that good of a liar.

He turned back to his spellbook and scowled at it. 

A moment later, a tankard was set on the table corner furthest from his book. “Man, I’m glad to see you closed your ink at least, Considering how you fucking badgered the Gentleman for it. Though uh, looks like you've mangled that pen.” 

Caleb blinked then looked at his hand – he hadn’t noticed he'd been tapping against the table, or even worse, that he'd still been holding a pen in that hand. The pen's nib was now bent out of shape. “Scheisse. That's my only one!” 

“Ah fuck. I'm sure one of us have one around somewhere that you can use.” Beau frowned off towards the rest of the tavern, the looked back to Caleb and raised her brows.

Caleb shifted from starting in horror at his mangled pen and looked up at her, then started packing up his book and papers and ink. “Is that really why you came over?”

Beau took the cleaning up as the silent permission it was and sat down. “Partly? You really haven’t done shit in nearly an hour, so I figured out you’d been glooming over here or some shit and – look, do you regret telling me?”

“Ah,” Caleb blinked, then shook his head. “No. I think. I think you and Nott… I would have told the two of you first if I stayed. That is not very clear –” He hurriedly held up a hand, thought a moment, then corrected himself, “I’m not sure it’s safe for any of us if I stay, and if you had reacted in a stronger negative, I would have likely left with Nott, ja? I think I prefer the group, but I cannot predict the others as easily. I figured you’d hear what I had to say, acknowledge it, and move on. I needed to say it and I’m glad the first time I said it was to the two of you.”

Beau nodded and lifted her tankard but didn’t immediately take a drink. “Wait, the first time?” 

Caleb shifted in her chair and let his gaze drift from her face. “Ja. I, uh, I told Mollymauk. Last night. Ja.”

Beau scowled at him, then turned in her chair and glared at... Caleb would have assumed she'd be glaring at mollymauk's position, but she seemed to be glaring at the tavern door now. “What the fuck Caleb? Why him? And you sound fucking nervous about it.”

Caleb frowned down at his hands. “I am – not certain my reasons were solid, and it was odder than I anticipated.”

“Yeah, I mean, this is fucking Molly we’re talking about you’re going to need to be more specific than that.” Beau drank and waited.

“Mollymauk laughs and jokes and tells tales. That is much of how he lives. I had only seen him otherwise in fights, or confronting something, or that night after we met the Tabaxi.”

“Ha, when Jester put the Zone of Truth on him?”

Caleb shook his head, “When he panicked and started telling the truth even before then. I think, ja. I think he didn’t believe his past mattered until then, so it was something to joke about, and then, it wasn’t. It as a thing that could have consequences he couldn’t know and we needed to be warned. We needed to know because he tries to be a good person.”

Beau scrunched up her nose and grimaced. “I guess. Whatever. What does this have to do with how he was odd?”

“He was serious, but not confrontational.” 

“Serious. Okay, yeah, that’d be weird, so what were your shaky reasons for him anyway?”

“Do you really have to interrogate me on this?” Caleb sighed and leaned into his chair more, but continued, “I’m not braced enough to tell Jester. I know too little about Yasha. Fjord is far too good an actor for me to trust him. Mollymauk, for all his lying and telling stories and uh, flash, he’s capable of being honest if he believes it counts, as I understand him.”

“Fuck. I’ll give you Jester, but I feel like trusting Molly’s gotta make you trust Yasha.”

“You also want to be far closer to Yasha than I do.” Caleb deadpanned. He looked to the bar and debated getting a drink for himself.

“Oh, fuck no. If you’re going there then, fuck you. Fucking tell me to my face you don’t want to get closer to Molly.” 

Caleb blinked, then swung his gaze back to her. “I don’t want to get closer to Molly – he makes me uncomfortable.”

Beau snorted into her drink, “yeah I bet he fucking does.”

“Beauregard,” Caleb said her name low with as much warning as he could manage.

“I’m just saying, if you fucking liked him it sure would explain why you told him despite your terrible reasons.”

“Beauregard, I’m thirty-three. I’ve been in love before, ja? I’m fairly certain I’d know if I liked someone as you are implying. I do not feel that way about Mollymauk. I find him confusing, and I need a drink.” Caleb stood, and turned to head to the bar, but Beau interrupted.

“I mean, sure, but that was when you were like, young and whatever and you uh, don’t remember all that time, so –” 

“Beauregard, if you want to ask questions like that, then you are buying my drink and we’re having this discussion in my room. I’ll meet you there, but I wish to see if Jester will mend my pen first.”

“Right, that’s a yeah, fuck I’ll get you a drink. Or two.”

Caleb nodded, then glanced around for Jester – he would have missed her if she hadn’t been gesturing her arms enthusiastically while telling a story to one of the locals. Hadn’t Mollymauk been sitting with her a moment ago? Just as well. “Jester – May I ask you a favor? You have that mending spell, ja?”

Jester nodded, “Yep! Do you want me to get your coat? I think I could manage it!”

Caleb sighed and shook his head. “No, I was – I broke my pen. Would you be willing to fix it?”

Jeste sighed dramatically, sprawling across the table and startling a man away from her outstretched arms, then she rolled to her side somewhat. “Fiiiiine. Let me see it.” She sat up and held her hand out, wiggling her fingers impatiently.

Caleb smiled faintly and settled the pen in her hand. She sighed, concentrated, and the pen bent back in shape. “Does it look better, Caleb?”

“Ah, let me see, ja?” Caleb lifted the pen and inspected it, then smile. “Ja, this looks like it will work. Thank you, Jester.”

“No problem! I’m happy to help.” Jester beamed up at him. “Are you going to finish your studying upstairs, then?”

“I think so. I’d like to get at least one more thing down, but, the rest of you can pick up supplies now, ja? Let me know when it’s time to leave.”

Jester nodded and beamed, “Sure thing!”

“Thank you again.” Caleb bobs in something resembling a bow, then turns and goes immediately for the stairs – noting on his way that Beau had acquired a tray of beverages. Perfect. He was going to drink, and deal with Beau having odd questions, and hopefully she would not suggest that he was attracted to Mollymauk again. Honestly, the flamboyant and distracting displays of his personal style was a strong detractor on that account, fascinating, but too much so. 

Caleb shook his head at those thoughts and slipped into his room; in moments Beau followed and handed him a drink.

“So, uh, how much fucking time did you lose?”

Caleb sighed and sipped his beer, needing that much before he answered, “Slightly over a decade, not more than eleven years. I’ve been wandering for five.”

“So, should I consider you twenty-two?” Beau grinned suddenly, sharp and eager with a mischief.

“No, Beauregard, that is not how that works, ja? I was taught how to function in an adult’s world before I – Before. I had practice, but I frequently had to prove myself then. It was... I’ll admit, an adjustment to having people treat me as an adult immediately, when I got out, but that is not such a difficult thing. So, I am thirty-three, but out of touch. That’s all.”

Beau snorted, “Yeah, out of fucking touch is right. But it means you’re still weird and awkward, and what, do you think it’s the – well, it’s not the same, but like, similar for Mollymauk?”

Caleb hesitated, then shook his head. “No. Not anymore. I suspected it might be, but now? No. I think, what little he knows of the man who died, says he should stay dead. And. He was understanding, ja? He took the time to think it through and give me – well, he ended up giving me advice.” Caleb frowned, startled to realize that he hadn’t taken anytime in his fretting to consider what exactly Mollymauk had told him. He rubbed his fingertips together then murmured, “Even more than you, he acknowledged that I had a choice, and made it. The rest of Mollymauk’s advice, it was good.” Ome knot finally loosened in Caleb, and he gave the slightest smile, “It was good.”

Beau groaned, and sank back onto one of the beds, “That’s not what I was asking –”

There was rapping on the door – Mollymauk, by the rhythm. Caleb raised a brow at Beau and she sighed, giving a nod. Caleb nodded back, “Mollymauk, you can come in.”

“Ah, there you are. I heard there was beer up here?” Mollymauk peeked his head in and raised his eyebrows at Beau. “What were you talking about?”

“There’s a third tankard, if you’d like some,” Caleb started. “We were talking about the fact that Beau seems to believe that a lack of memories for a time makes you younger.”

Mollymauk nodded, stepping in and shutting the door. Caleb found his eyes lingering on the many colors of cloth on the Tiefling – as always – then pulled up to see if Molly had his dimples showing, a curiosity he wouldn’t have indulged if it hadn’t been for Beau’s needling earlier. “Well, I won’t claim it makes me older and wiser, but you haven’t stopped me from speaking and paying for myself, Beau, so I doubt you actually think that.”

Beau stuck her tongue out at him. “Fuck off. And no, but I was going to joke about him being 22 which would make him younger than me…”

Molly laughed, and somehow, the banter that sprung up soothed even more of the worry from Caleb. This – this was a good choice.


End file.
